This is a non-commercial fanfic based on the universes of The Witcher and Disco Elysium. All rights to the original works, characters, names, and elements of their respective worlds belong to their respective copyright holders. The author of this fanfic does not claim ownership of any of them. Age rating: rated R (18+). The text contains profanity, alcohol, fictional drugs, violence, and other themes intended for an adult audience.
“He who sups with the devil should have a long spoon.”
— Traditional English proverb
NARRATOR – Another fifteen minutes pass. At last, Vernon approaches at a brisk pace, slightly out of breath.
VERNON ROCHE – My apologies for being late. The conversation with Thaler ran a little longer than expected… And afterward I decided to stop by the coroner. He graciously agreed to conduct a second examination — fortunately, the body has not yet been taken to the cemetery.
NARRATOR – Vernon rummages through his bottomless bag and holds out a slightly flattened lead ball about a centimeter and a half across.
VERNON ROCHE – The coroner extracted this tiny thing from inside the victim’s skull. During the first examination, the entry wound went unnoticed: it was deep inside the mouth, and everything there was covered in blood, mucus, and rot. Besides, no one would have thought to look for anything like this in the first place.
CODEX [Medium: Failure] – It resembles a lead weight from a set of pocket scales. The sort used for weighing precious stones, for instance. Though why anyone would want to shove one down a dead man’s throat is less clear.
ARTISTRY [Easy: Failure] – It’s an ancient funerary custom — like placing coins over the eyes.
VERNON ROCHE – It’s a bullet. It entered through the mouth, pierced the palate, and then lodged in the brain. The coroner considers it highly likely that this was the cause of death, and that Lavelle died almost instantly.
NARRATOR – The little lead ball glints dully in your palm.
FORTITUDE [Medium: Failure] – Could this tiny piece of lead really have killed a grown man? It’s hard to believe… It seems far too small to decide a matter of life and death.
DIALECTIC [Easy: Success] – It all fits. Someone tied Lavelle up and hanged him after he was already dead.
VERNON ROCHE – So our hypothesis is confirmed. Unfortunately, if the bullet really was the cause of death, it raises a great many new questions… Who was the shooter, and from where was the shot fired? Where and when did Bastien actually die? Who staged this entire spectacle in the vacant lot, and for what purpose?
RESOLVE [Challenging: Failure] – A wave of exhaustion and helplessness hits you all at once.
YOU – So now it feels like we know even less than we did when we started the investigation…
VERNON ROCHE – In a sense, yes. But this is no time to lose heart, Geralt. We have a dangerous meeting ahead of us with the local thief-in-law… If all goes well, there is some hope of learning more.
BRAWN [Easy: Success] – And if it doesn’t, they’ll simply cut your throats. No fuss.
NARRATOR – Roche holds out a wrapped bundle.
VERNON ROCHE – And one more thing… I stopped by the armory. Of course, it doesn’t compare to your witcher swords, but it’s still better than nothing.
NARRATOR – Inside the bundle is a dagger slightly longer than your palm. The blade is narrow and well sharpened. The hilt is decorated with an intricate pattern.
VERNON ROCHE – A small gift from me. As a last resort.
BOND OF STEEL [Easy: Success] – He understands that if Grave’s cutthroats decide to attack, no dagger is going to save you. Still, there is something reassuring about the weight of it.
WHISPER [Challenging: Success] – Tuck it into your boot. A kind of ace up your sleeve.
YOU – Thank you very much.
VERNON ROCHE – May it serve you well. Now, let’s go… I know where pan Grave’s den is. It’s not far.
NARRATOR – You head away from the tavern, in the opposite direction from the Merchant Quarter. The noisy Fountain Square recedes behind you. The street ahead grows darker, narrower, and quieter. The houses seem to lean over you, their upper stories nearly touching and leaving only a thin strip of gloomy evening sky overhead. Mud squelches underfoot, the gutters reek of rot, and the few passersby hurry to turn away before you can get a good look at their faces.
SENSIBILITY [Medium: Success] – People here don’t look at each other. They look past each other. A useful habit in a place where one careless glance might cost you a few teeth.
NARRATOR – Vernon walks with confidence, as though he has been here before. About ten minutes later, he turns into a narrow alley and approaches a wooden door made of unpainted planks. At once, an inconspicuous man in dark clothes peels himself away from the opposite wall.
GRAVE’S THUG – And where do you fine gentlemen think you’re going?
VERNON ROCHE – We need to speak with Grave. About the murder behind the tavern.
NARRATOR – The doorman slowly shifts his gaze from your medallion to Roche’s sword.
GRAVE’S THUG – Ahh, so that’s how it is. The boss said some strange pair might show up over that stiff — a mutant and a swordsman in a turban. Looks like you fit the description…
NARRATOR – He takes half a step aside.
GRAVE’S THUG – Well then, welcome. Go on in, head upstairs, and turn right into the big hall. Just one thing… no sudden moves, and keep your hands where we can see them. Otherwise, we’ll shorten them for you real quick. There’s five dozen of us in here, and every last man is armed to the teeth.
DISCERNMENT [Medium: Failure] – Five dozen? In this two-story dump? Hard to believe.
NARRATOR – Roche gives a curt nod and pulls the door open. A wave of tobacco smoke, bright light, loud voices, and some hideous screeching rushes out to meet you — something like the bleating of a goat being butchered alive. Following the directions you were given, you climb to the second floor and enter a spacious hall with a blazing fireplace. Along the far wall stands a long table piled high with all manner of delicacies: roast duck, pâtés, caviar, fresh bread, stewed vegetables, tall jugs of wine, bottles of vodka beaded with condensation…
VICE [Easy: Success] – Oh gods… You’ve found paradise. This is where you belong.
NARRATOR – At the head of the table sits a completely bald, muscular man of about thirty, naked to the waist. Presumably, this is Grave. To his right sits a bearded giant, savagely carving into a piece of meat with an enormous knife. To his left, perched on a high chair, is a tiny red-haired gnome girl, animatedly telling some story to the others. The moment she notices you, she falls silent and gives you that familiar sly smile. Her large green eyes sparkle merrily in the firelight.
REFLEX [Trivial: Success] – Damn it, that’s the same gnome! Does she work for Grave?!
NARRATOR – Two young fair-haired men are also seated at the table, strikingly alike — most likely brothers. At the very end sits a scrawny little man of about forty-five with a sly, ratlike face. The whole merry company talks loudly over the music. The musicians themselves — a dwarf torturing a set of shrieking bagpipes and a halfling furiously pounding on an enormous drum — stand near the fireplace.
HORRIFIC MEDALLION – Kumpel, now’s the time to party!
NARRATOR – The moment you enter the hall, the revelers fall silent, and the music cuts off on a high, trembling note.
FORTITUDE [Easy: Failure] – Thank the gods. That tortured-goat screeching was drilling straight into your skull.
NARRATOR – The bald strongman gets up from the table and strolls over with a grunt. He stops in front of you, looks the two of you over from beneath thick brows, and folds his arms across his chest, flexing his muscles. Vernon watches him calmly without saying a word.
KEEN EYE [Challenging: Success] – The big man is wearing expensive heeled boots. And judging by the size, they seem to match the footprints found beneath the tree.
YOU – So he was at the murder scene?
KEEN EYE – At the very least, someone wearing boots like those was definitely there. Perhaps the giant was with him — the one wiping his brow on his sleeve while he keeps hacking away at that meat… And they had an entourage with them: the twins and the rat-faced little man.
YOU – So the gnome was the one standing by the fence?
KEEN EYE – Very unlikely. The size doesn’t match — her footprints would have been noticeably narrower and shorter.
NARRATOR – Meanwhile, the thief-in-law narrows his eyes, tilting his head slightly to one side.
GRAVE – Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Vernon Roche himself, hero of Temeria… And the White Wolf, also known as the Butcher of Blaviken.
NARRATOR – He turns to his companions and explains, like a herald announcing the titles of some distinguished guest.
GRAVE – They say seven or eight years ago this mutant took down the Shrike’s whole gang single-handed. And she was no pushover either — I crossed paths with her a couple of times myself… Anyway, this lunatic damn near flooded the whole village with blood, kurwa. Though maybe those are just stories.
NARRATOR – Grave turns his attention back to the two of you.
GRAVE – Well? What brings you here? Cat got your tongues? Out with it.
DOMINANCE [Challenging: Success] – Don’t answer just yet. Fold your arms and stare him down.
NARRATOR – Mirroring the strongman’s gesture, you crack your knuckles and fold your arms across your chest. Grave raises an eyebrow, squares his shoulders, and takes half a step forward. For several long seconds, he stares straight into your eyes. Then a crooked grin appears on his face; he looks away and bursts out laughing.
GRAVE – Well, well! Looks like the Wolf is trying real hard to prove he’s got a cock a yard long.
NARRATOR – The tall bearded man joins in with a booming laugh, stuffing a juicy piece of duck into his mouth.
ROCK – Yeah, boss, looks like he’s got a cock you don’t wanna mess with. But around here, mutant, you ain’t gonna scare anybody with your junk. So you’d better keep it in your trousers unless you wanna deal with me.
ELOQUENCE [Medium: Success] – Perhaps that threat did not come out quite the way he intended. Just don’t smile.
DOMINANCE – You’ve won a tiny but important victory, even if they’re laughing. What matters now is staying calm and keeping your guard up.
GRAVE – Now, now, hold on, Rock. Where are our manners? Welcome to my humble home! Here in the Temple Quarter, they call me Grave. I represent the interests of the common folk and run a little business here.
NARRATOR – He returns to the table and gives the bearded man a sharp slap on the back.
GRAVE – This, as you’ve probably gathered, is Rock — though his real name’s Borukh. Next to him are the brothers Janek and Jarek. Damned if I can tell which one’s which; I mix them up all the time… Then there’s Maciej, nicknamed Rat. And that little runt over there, the one whose feet don’t even reach the floor — that’s Rosie.
NARRATOR – The gnome makes an obscene gesture at Grave and bursts out laughing. Grave returns to his seat and, with a broad sweep of one arm, invites you to join them. You cautiously settle onto the bench beside Rat and look around. The diners, however, seem completely at ease. Apparently, no one is planning to attack you. Yet.
YOU – Um… Rosie, we’ve met before, haven’t we? Outside the Shaggy Bear. Were you… spying on us?
NARRATOR – She pulls an offended face and plants her hands on her hips.
ROSIE – Ugh, how rude! Where did you learn your manners? I’m not some nasty little spy. I’m simply possessed of the healthy curiosity common to all gnomes, that’s all.
WHISPER [Trivial: Success] – She was spying on you. Out of the corner of one eye.
ROSIE – Anyway, I’m Grave’s assistant, and I help his boys too. I advise them on legal matters, so to speak.
NARRATOR – The bearded man suddenly breaks into an unexpectedly warm smile and says with almost paternal affection:
ROCK – Rosie’s a smart one, she is. Boss even sent her all the way to Oxenfurt to study… what d’you call it… juris… jurisprudence. Bah, damn word’ll break your tongue… So you, gray-hair, show her a little more respect. Otherwise you’ll have to deal with me.
GRAVE – Oh, give it a rest, Borukh. We can always break their necks later. You gentlemen help yourselves and get to the point — preferably before my friend here loses interest in the food altogether.
NARRATOR – He gives a predatory grin and gestures for the musicians to leave. They set down their instruments and hurry out of the hall. Vernon, who has remained silent until now, clasps his hands in front of him and replies calmly.
VERNON ROCHE – In that case, let’s get straight to the point. We’d like to ask you a few questions about the murder behind the tavern.
GRAVE – Go ahead, then. Why not? I may even answer some of them.
NARRATOR – Grave calmly helps himself to some meat and stewed vegetables, then fishes a couple of pickles out of a small bucket. Rat, seated beside you, busily slides a plate of ham your way and pours you some wine. You take a sip almost automatically, without even noticing the taste.
VERNON ROCHE – From what we’ve learned, the victim — Bastien Lavelle — was an emissary sent by the merchant Leuvaarden to negotiate with you. The meeting was supposed to take place on the day of the murder. Did it ever happen?
GRAVE – That sly fat bastard really did offer a kind of truce. Guess he finally realized he’d have to reckon with our organization…
NARRATOR – Rock thumps a fist on the table in emphatic agreement.
GRAVE – But no, the negotiations never happened. Dead men are not usually known for being talkative.
VERNON ROCHE – Very well. Then I’ll ask you directly: do you know who killed him? At present, we have several suspects…
YOU – …And the footprints of five people beneath the tree. One of them belonged to a very large, tall man, another to someone wearing heeled boots, and there were three others with them.
NARRATOR – Every pair of eyes at the table turns toward you. The atmosphere suddenly becomes rather uncomfortable. The bald strongman gives a short grunt.
GRAVE – You don’t waste time, do you, Wolf? I can already tell where you’re going with this… You know what?
NARRATOR – He drains his wine in one gulp and slams the goblet down on the table.
GRAVE – Yeah, kurwa, you’re right! That night, the boys and I really were in that stinking vacant lot behind the tavern. And your Bastien — or whatever the hell his name was — was there with us.
DISCERNMENT [Challenging: Failure] – Strange. That was almost too easy.
NARRATOR – Vernon looks neither surprised nor satisfied. He merely inclines his head slightly.
VERNON ROCHE – Pan Grave, are you confessing to the murder of Chevalier Lavelle? Just like that?
GRAVE – No, no, Roche. I’m not confessing to the murder. We are. There’s a considerable difference.
ROSIE – In other words, all five of these worthy gentlemen are guilty. Equally guilty, every one of them. You may, of course, try to arrest them, but…
GRAVE – …But I strongly advise against it. This building is packed with my men, and the locals unquestionably support us as well. They won’t allow any arrests.
NARRATOR – He leans back lazily in his chair.
GRAVE – You have no authority here, Roche.
DOMINANCE [Challenging: Success] – Is that so?.. Though yes, it does rather seem he’s right.
VERNON ROCHE – We will report all of this to Captain Meis.
GRAVE – To who? Meis?! Ha-ha-ha! Go right ahead, report away. He and his squad of tin soldiers are good for nothing but chasing beggars off the streets. He won’t dare make a move. Besides, Vincent knows perfectly well that I can keep this part of the city under control. His guards can’t.
NARRATOR – Silence settles over the room. Rat, seated beside you, noisily chews on a caviar sandwich.
WHISPER [Challenging: Success] – Wait. This isn’t over yet. Grave is holding something back. The first obvious question is motive. Why kill him at all? And why confess so easily?
YOU – All right, but why did you kill him in the first place if you were planning to negotiate?
NARRATOR – Grave pauses for a moment, as though the question has genuinely stumped him.
GRAVE – Why?..
JANEK – Because he was a filthy little aristocrat and we didn’t like his fucking face!
NARRATOR – Grave smirks, clearly pleased with the answer.
GRAVE – Good enough reason. Or maybe I simply changed my mind about negotiating. You can tell that fat bastard to go fuck himself.
NARRATOR – The last words come out clipped and vicious.
JAREK – Bastien had been hanging around our quarter before. Every time he came here, he acted like a complete bastard.
RAT – Yeah. Showed up at the Shaggy Bear one evening, started yelling about how he was some big fucking shot and how he’d fuck everyone up… Then he started hassling this girl — you know, the one who…
GRAVE – Shut your mouth, Rat.
NARRATOR – Rat snaps his mouth shut at once. Grave glares at him from under his brows for several seconds, then turns back to you.
GRAVE – In short, this so-called chevalier was nothing but common scum who thought far too highly of himself.
VERNON ROCHE – But what exactly did he do?
GRAVE – What didn’t he fucking do? Every time he came here, he strutted around, picked fights, threatened people with his connections, constantly harassed women — and raped one of them!.. So in the end, we dealt with him ourselves. Our way. That’s all.
NARRATOR – The last word drops onto the table like a gnawed bone.
ELOQUENCE [Medium: Success] – Not “that’s all.” Not even close. Rat almost named someone specific, but Grave shut him up immediately. As though he didn’t want that subject brought up at all.
YOU – Wait, but no one said anything about any rape…
VERNON ROCHE – Exactly. If you’re claiming that the victim assaulted someone, we need to know the woman’s name. This is an extremely serious accusation. When and where did it happen?
RAT – Lavelle started groping her right there in the tavern, in front of everyone. Nearly tore her clothes off! And then…
NARRATOR – The thief-in-law cuts him off sharply.
GRAVE – If you don’t shut your mouth right now, Rat, I’ll knock every tooth out of your head.
NARRATOR – Rat falls silent, raising both hands in a placating gesture. A greasy smile spreads across his face — the look of a man who meant to please his boss but accidentally hit a sore spot instead.
SENSIBILITY [Challenging: Failure] – What is going on here? Why are they acting so strangely?
GRAVE – I’m telling you, Roche, we got to the girl in time. Barely…
ELOQUENCE – He’s clearly contradicting himself.
GRAVE – So later that night we tied the bastard’s hands and dragged him out to the vacant lot…
REFLEX [Easy: Success] – There it is. He just let something slip. Press the advantage, but carefully.
YOU – When you dragged Lavelle out to the vacant lot, was he still alive?
GRAVE – Alive and kicking. Yelling, struggling, bragging about his fucking connections, threatening to have every last one of us sent to the block…
YOU – And how exactly did you kill him?
NARRATOR – One of the twins — Janek or Jarek, impossible to tell — lets out a loud fart. No one else pays it the slightest attention.
JAREK – Hey, mutant, are you fucking stupid? He was hanging from a tree, wasn’t he? Or do you need a demonstration?
GRAVE – Exactly. We put a rope around his neck, hauled his filthy carcass up nice and high, and then just waited until he stopped twitching. Simple as that!
NARRATOR – Roche says nothing, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the table and leaving you the honor of delivering the final blow.
DIALECTIC [Medium: Success] – Excellent. He walked straight into the trap. Now you just have to play your cards very carefully.
YOU – So all of you tied him up while he was still alive and hanged him behind the Shaggy Bear. Is that right?
GRAVE – Finally. The mountain labored and brought forth a mouse. Behold Dijkstra himself, genius of deduction!
ROSIE – And now, honored guests, if you have no further questions, you may be on your way. Pan Grave has no intention of making any further comments.
RESOLVE [Challenging: Success] – One last step. Hold steady.
YOU – Well, Vernon, looks like it really is time for us to go. Case closed.
BOND OF STEEL [Medium: Success] – Keep going. He’ll understand.
NARRATOR – Roche narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly, but says nothing.
YOU – Write this down, then: in the Temple Quarter, people are murdered simply because someone doesn’t like the look of them. So much for Grave’s organization supposedly caring about the welfare of the city.
RAT – Hey, idiot, we already told you he damn near raped a girl and acted like a complete asshole besides!
BRAWN [Easy: Success] – There. He’s the one squirming hardest. Press him.
YOU – Very interesting, Rat. But if you’re still claiming you hanged Lavelle while he was alive, I’ve got some bad news for you.
RAT – What? What fucking news?
YOU – The coroner established beyond any doubt that the victim’s hands were tied only after death. By the time you strung him up from the tree, Lavelle was already dead. So what does that mean? Were you trying to deceive us?
RAT – U-uh… Well… I mean…
SENSIBILITY [Easy: Success] – That’s right. They’re lying. The only question is why.
NARRATOR – The smile on Grave’s face twitches almost imperceptibly.
SENSIBILITY [Challenging: Success] – For a moment, he is caught off guard. Only for a moment. You almost knocked him off balance.
GRAVE – Yeah… that’s true. First we gave the bastard a proper beating, then we strangled him. Lavelle was already dead by the time we dragged him to the tree. We hung him up so every smug piece of shit would know: in our quarter, payback is swift and brutal.
JAREK – Damn right!
ELOQUENCE [Medium: Success] – Excellent. Now he’s claiming Lavelle was strangled before he ever reached the tree… First, ask Vernon to show them what the coroner found. You know exactly what.
YOU – Vernon, if you would… Show them the evidence the coroner found this evening.
NARRATOR – Vernon gives a short nod. He understands your game perfectly. Reaching into his bag, he takes out the slightly flattened lead ball and places it on the table before the assembled company.
YOU – Do you know what this is, ladies and gentlemen?
GRAVE – Some fucking piece of junk. Why are you showing me this, Wolf? Don’t test my patience.
YOU – It’s a bullet. The coroner pulled it out of Lavelle’s skull. It entered through the mouth, pierced the palate, and lodged in the brain.
NARRATOR – An unfamiliar silence falls over the table. Even Rock stops chewing.
YOU – Lavelle didn’t die from strangulation. He was shot. Only afterward were his hands tied and his body hung from the tree.
BRAWN [Trivial: Success] – Now let Roche knock him the fuck out.
VERNON ROCHE – In other words, pan Grave, your version of events sounds highly doubtful.
JAREK – Fuck, that gray-haired bastard’s been yammering about those footprints by the tree this whole fucking time!
VERNON ROCHE – Most likely, you really were at the vacant lot. But I don’t believe you had anything to do with the murder. And yet, for some reason, you’re doing everything you can to take the blame for it.
NARRATOR – Grave’s face flushes with anger. He clenches his fists and suddenly surges forward as if to rise, but Rosie places a hand on his shoulder. A light touch — almost affectionate.
GRAVE – Kurwa, you stinking mutant… So what?! Maybe your fucking expert got it wrong. Maybe somebody shot the stiff after he was hanged — just for fun. Or maybe you made the whole thing up, pulled that fucking lead ball out of your ass, and now you’re FEEDING ME THIS BULLSHIT?!!!
NARRATOR – He finally springs to his feet, nearly overturning the table, and grabs the war hammer hanging from his belt. The twins lurch forward at the same time.
ROSIE – CALM THE FUCK DOWN!
NARRATOR – The gnome’s sudden sharp shout makes Grave sit back down. Nostrils flaring, he glowers at Vernon from beneath his brows.
FORTITUDE [Challenging: Failure] – That was far too close. The trembling is starting again. Better keep your hands under the table.
GRAVE – Anyway, idiots… I’ve got nothing more to say. You have no witnesses, no solid evidence. You don’t have shit.
DIALECTIC [Easy: Success] – The coroner is almost certain that the bullet killed Lavelle. Unfortunately, almost is not the same as certainty. Grave can simply keep claiming that someone shot the corpse after it was hanged. In short, at the moment you simply don’t have enough evidence.
GRAVE – So unless you’ve finally decided to arrest the whole lot of us, the door’s over there. Get the hell out while I’m still feeling generous. And if you ever decide to show your faces here again, raise a white flag first — and raise it high… Otherwise, things are going to end very badly for you. You’ll be swinging from the same tree as that asshole.
NARRATOR – Without saying a word, Vernon rises from the table and strides toward the exit. You follow him. Behind you, the thief-in-law’s roar fills the room.
GRAVE – Well, why the fuck did everyone go quiet?! This ain’t a wake! Get the musicians back in here, tell the cook to bring more meat, and let’s fucking drink!